


From His Ashes

by sunnyautumnmorning



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anger, Death, M/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5526119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnyautumnmorning/pseuds/sunnyautumnmorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ralof deals with death of his beloved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From His Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLoneSurvivor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLoneSurvivor/gifts).



Ralof stood looking into the dying fire, wincing as the memories of what he had lost flooded through his mind.

With an unsteady, bloody hand, he wiped the tears that threatened to spill across his cheeks.

Moving further away from the fire, he turned towards the tent he had shared with Bormic and lifted the flap of the tent, hoping against hope that by some small grace, of the Nine, Bormic would be there, waiting for him.

Ralof knew it would not be true.

Bormic had moved on, to wait in Sovngarde, without him. His remains entombed in the grip of the dying fire outside.

As Ralof sat heavily on the edge of the chair, he lowered his head into his hands and wept uncontrollably for his loss. He was shaken to his very core at the death of the man he loved.

Anger gripped him in its clutches now as he raised his head, looking around the interior of the tent. Everywhere he looked, there were reminders of Bormic, but no Bormic.

Ralof stood and blindly grabbed hold of the nearest object and threw it in anger, his voice growing louder as he did as he swore uncontrollably. He smashed the chair that he had sat on then as he turned to grab hold of the next closest object, he paused as a slight breeze blew through the tent, chilling his arms and cooling his face.

He stopped and closed his eyes as he felt, what he thought, was a caress on his cheek and the sound of his name, being spoken, by that of his love in a whisper.

Ralof fell to his knees, his head hanging down, and he wept.

“Bormic, how do I go on without you? How do I manage?”

As if Bormic answered him, the battleaxe he had carried as long as Ralof had known him, fell over by the entrance to the tent.

Ralof studied it for a few moments then standing, he walked to it slowly and picked it up in his hands, feeling the weight of it.

Ralof recalled how Bormic had swung the battleaxe as they had fought the Forsworn. The blades edge catching the light, glinting as it made work of the enemy.

Ralof nodded and with a sigh, he moved out of the tent, pausing for a moment to collect an urn, then he headed back to the edge of the fire pit and stood watching, vigilant, until the last of the glowing embers died down.

He took the battleaxe and, carefully and methodically, scraped the ashes together. 

He turned to the urn and gathered it in his hands, his eyes roaming over the design on the outside of the urn in the shape of bird. He thought that it was fitting for Bormic, who was now free as a bird, to soar high aloft of the clouds, unfettered by his human form.

Ralof scooped and collected the ashes, ensuring that he had them all and then slowly he stood and smiled.

“My love, I shall carry you for a while, if you do not mind. You are of no burden to me. I just want to be with you a while longer before we part.”

The wind picked up again, caressing Ralof’s cheek and he nodded.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble I wrote for my friend about two of my favorite characters.


End file.
